


Not Now

by Kitt_Monroe



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Dialogue, Gen, Narrator Chara, Non-Binary Chara, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 07:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5196830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitt_Monroe/pseuds/Kitt_Monroe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're always listening to them, even when all they're doing is crying, and you don't know what that means to them but it means a lot to you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Now

You can feel them screaming.

Their screams manifest not only as a sound inside your mind but as a physical twinge of pain, like something rushing against the front of your head, trying desperately to escape. You think perhaps that that vague, glancing twinge hurts nearly more than the burns you’re still taking every available opportunity to nurse from the last time Toriel’s fire magic brushed against your side. You’re getting only marginally better at avoiding her attacks as time wears on…

An emotional twinge, too, because you’re not quite so numb as not to understand the emotions behind each of those screams, for they certainly are numbered. This is not a single prolonged shriek, sustained throughout the present battle, but rather periodic but frequent screams of agonized horror that resound through your head each and every time one of Toriel’s spells hits its mark, every time she gets that cold, stern—even _bitter_ at times—expression on her face. You sympathize with their horror and their agony, though you do not understand it; to the best of your knowledge, the person in your head isn’t the one feeling the brunt of Toriel’s attack, isn’t the one being blocked off more by her disarming stare than by her actual presence in front of the door.

You know that at any moment you could just slip past her and for all her strength she could not possibly catch up to you. Yet, you know in your soul that this is a battle you must end, and as peacefully as possible if she would only _stop shooting fire at you for two seconds—_

You know that ensuring your own safety isn’t the only reason you’d like to escape. After all, you’ve essentially gotten a handle by this point on your ability to focus your determination into keeping yourself alive even when your soul grows numb. You can will yourself to awaken in certain situations where you can remember feeling determined, so dying isn’t really an issue to you. If there is one reason you’d really like to find a way out of this fight, it’s because you also imagine that you could possibly bring some sense of calm to the person in your mind—or at least stop them from screaming so loudly—by leaving the present situation into something more stable, something more peaceful.

You’re not a _master_ of detecting what people are feeling, but at times you like to imagine that you’re halfway decent, and you’re able to put two and two together. Your mind friend—they don’t seem to like sharing a lot about themself, so you don’t yet know their name if they have one—has been generally quiet, and when they do talk with you they’re basically pleasant, if a little dry and dreary when giving you advice or telling you things they suppose you should already know. They’ve never acted this way. They’ve never even raised their voice except sometimes to warn you about a surprise encounter with a monster.

But right now they’re screaming, they’ve _been_ screaming since right about the time Toriel’s first launched spell seared your chest, and you feel so bad for them because even though you don’t _know_ why they’re screaming, you know their screams are based in terror and anguish…not to mention shock, but a very negative sort of shock. You would call it betrayal, but that would involve a personal conflict…

It mortifies you to consider what possible reasons this could be affecting them so much, but at present you’re too busy trying to dodge another neatly arranged double helix of fireballs to think too deeply about it. Under any other circumstances, you could probably appreciate the elegance with which Toriel battles, but you don’t feel exceptionally appreciative of it at this moment.

You’d like to tell your…partner? Guest? You’d like to tell them just to calm down, just for a minute or so, just until you can get Toriel to listen to you… But they’re being so loud they probably wouldn’t hear you no matter how “loudly” you thought that to yourself, and if you said it aloud Toriel would be horribly confused. Besides, you know well enough what a panic attack, or whatever equally crushing, crippling episode they’re having right now, can be like—if your guest is anything like you, they could find this very difficult to deal with, and being told to “calm down” would probably just upset them further.

Toriel is unimpressed by your unwillingness to battle her. “Fight me or leave!” she commands, voice straining slightly with an emotion you can’t discern over the volume of the person in your head, before sending another ring of fire after you. The voice in your head cries out in renewed horror, and you can hear the staggering breaths and wavering timbre that indicate these screams are being accompanied by tears. Oh, how you would comfort them if you had the time to spare…

You tell Toriel, as you have done several times now, that you will not fight her. She is plainly distraught, and her next reply comes after the first instance of hesitation you have seen from her during the battle. “Stop looking at me that way,” she requests, her gaze averted slightly from yours, but the less aggressive tone of her voice does not seem to assuage the distress of your companion. They scream again, this time with far less fear but with far greater sorrow, and the emergence of what you called betrayal earlier is now quite evident. They feel wronged, unbalanced by a circumstance they did not predict and that they did not want. You cannot tell whatever that circumstance might be.

You notice that their screams are still every bit as loud as they have been the entire fight, but the shift in tone has caused that volume to take on a greater strain, like there is a heavy weight over their throat they must overcome in order to maintain such an intensity. It could also be that they have been exercising that level of volume for a while now, and their voice is becoming tired…

You recall that they are only a voice in your head, so they probably don’t have vocal chords. But you digress.

You tell Toriel you do not want to fight, and she snaps out of her apparently momentary daze, the stern coldness returning to her face. The screaming in your head regains a mote of its earlier fear as the woman you once accidentally called “mother” shoots a pair of twisted lines of fire your way. You barely dodge in time to avoid being roasted.

Though the battle is important, your major attention is still on the person in your head, on why they could be having such a powerful reaction to Toriel’s behavior, on what you could possibly do to help them after this is over, on whether they’ll ever be willing to talk to you again. You got the both of you into this fight, after all, determined as always to move forward even when Toriel insisted you stay back. You recognize they might blame you for making Toriel act this way, and if the emotions in their voice are any indication, they seem to place some level of importance in Toriel specifically.

You still can’t pinpoint how that is, but you can only hope to learn later if you survive this, so you repeat to Toriel that you won’t fight her, that you won’t harm her no matter what she says. Sternness gives way to uncertainty on her face, and she looks away again. The next ring of fire she throws at you is less coordinated and you’re mostly able to sidestep it without great trouble.

The person in your head must also notice the change in Toriel’s demeanor, for their screams soften just slightly in volume and begin to incorporate a constant state of hyperventilating. You recognize that pattern from your own experiences with this level of anxiety; you can always tell you’re about ready to stop when your cries become less severe but your breathing becomes shallow. You guess you share a lot in common with this person, though you don’t know if they would appreciate you telling them that any time soon.

You tell Toriel you won’t fight, and her face falls further. She is quiet, and though she conjures up a few balls of fire, she is unable to toss them at you with any level of clarity. The voice in your head becomes yet softer, though still quite loud, and their screams dissolve into agonized, mortified sobbing. Is this progress, you wonder? You hope so, though you still can’t tell if it will be worth anything later for you to try to help them…

“I know you want to go home,” Toriel concedes, looking straight at you with concern and general melancholy darkening her expression, “but…”

You hold your hand, the one with your Toy Knife in it, outstretched away from you, to demonstrate to Toriel that you’re not going to use it. The person in your head is still sobbing, miserable and confused.

“But please…go upstairs now,” she tells you. You know that she knows you will not. You point the Toy Knife down at the floor so that it appears less threatening. Toriel sees this. Your companion’s sobs are still loud, still give you that twinge of pain, but they now take on a more dismayed tone than anything else. You can tell that whatever personal reason they had for screaming before, it hasn’t stopped plaguing them yet, and you would ask them but they probably wouldn’t respond.

Toriel smiles but you know she is not happy. “I promise I will take good care of you here,” she pleads, and you have never heard greater hope in the voice of a person who better knew their hopes would be dashed. You bend down slowly, keeping eye contact with her, to place the Toy Knife on the floor. The sobs are growing softer now, and they are still dismayed. You don’t know whether you prefer this to the screaming or not.

“I know we do not have much, but…” Toriel trails off. You place the Toy Knife fully on the ruins floor and let go of its hilt. Your companion is really just crying now, and you know that you have felt every reason a person could wish to cry in a place as frightening as the Underground, but _they,_ at least, have chosen to scream and cry at this point and this point only. You know in your soul there is a reason for that, but you’re making progress with Toriel so you’ll still have to wait to ask them.

“We can have a good life here,” Toriel promises. You stand up straight and kick the Toy Knife away from you. Toriel has probably gotten the message for a while already, but you want to make it starkly clear that you could never cause her the sort of injury that would prove you are “strong enough” in her eyes. The person in your head grows softer in volume until they are quietly weeping, clearly still observing the battle…and you would do your best to divide your attention at this stage between them and Toriel, just to ask your companion why this means so much to them, but it could be disastrous for all three of you so you remain focused on your opponent.

If she can even be called that at this point. Her smile falls, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard greater heartache in a single sentence than when she asks you, “Why are you making this so difficult?”

You have no other tangible means of showing mercy, so you simply let your hands rest on your heart. “Please, go upstairs,” Toriel says vaguely. She is quiet after that. Your companion’s weeping softens even more to deep, pained breathing.

You wonder if you should respond, but you do not know what you would say. You open your mouth to maybe say _something,_ but you are stopped by the intervention of none other than the person in your head. “Ironically, talking does not seem to be the solution to this situation,” they suggest, and their voice is noticeably raw from shrieking. It isn’t quite raspy, but it sounds overused and uncomfortable. Regardless you are delighted to hear them speak after all this time, and you hope that this means you’ll be able to communicate with them again after you’re out of the ruins.

So you don’t talk to Toriel. You simply stand there, looking as unthreatening as you can, until she speaks again. “Ha ha…” Her laugh is not joyful. “Pathetic, is it not? I cannot save even a single child.”

You continue to stand your ground while appearing the picture of mercy. “No, I understand,” Toriel goes on, and you are definitely hearing her now better than your companion, who has all but gone silent. “You would just be unhappy trapped down here,” Toriel acknowledges. “The ruins are very small once you get used to them.”

The person in your head draws in a shaky breath as Toriel continues. “It would not be right for you to grow up in a place like this. My expectations… My loneliness… My fear…”

She pauses for a moment, and during that pause the voice in your head makes a short sound almost like crying, but without the tears to support it. “For you, my child…I will put them aside,” Toriel tells you, and you feel pretty close to crying yourself but you hold it back.

Toriel turns away from you, and it is clear the battle is through. The voice in your head is breathing somewhat steadily, trying to regain control of their temper, control of their own emotions. The sympathy you feel for them is overwhelming, and you want to try your best to talk to them as soon as you’re outside, to let them know whatever they’re feeling is okay and would they please help you understand it. At the same time, you’re having trouble reminding yourself that you _want_ to leave the ruins in the first place, because Toriel looks so depressed and you’d like very little more than to make her happy…

But you must stay determined. And when Toriel speaks, you take in every syllable, every letter of what she says with the knowledge that it may be the last thing you hear from her. “If you truly wish to leave the ruins…I will not stop you,” she says, and the heartache is still there, but also creeping into her voice is understanding and acceptance. “However, when you leave…please do not come back. I hope you understand.”

It breaks your heart to hear that, but you do understand. You have accepted that you face an uncertain fate outside these ruins, and it is no longer within Toriel’s capabilities to watch over you…

When she turns to face you again, she envelops you in a soft, tight but not painful hug that instantly revitalizes you, at least emotionally. You hope you’ll remember this feeling for a long time.

You can feel the person in your head at the forefront of your mind again, pressing hard at your conscious, and you realize they are trying to themself be a part of this hug. You do your best to make them feel a part of it, even if you don’t know how to make that happen.

Far too soon, after one last goodbye, Toriel is gone, vanishing down the hallway with a single regretful glance back at you. You walk through the door.

They are quiet right now, but that isn’t unusual. You wonder if now is a good time to speak with them about what happened during the battle.

“Quiet,” is all they say just before you open your mouth. “Not…not now.”

You nod reassuringly and begin down the hallway in front of you.

**Author's Note:**

> First Undertale fic I guess! Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading!


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